"I Don't Accept That"

How a Pair of Running Shoes Inspired Our Approach to Product Design

The Background Discomfort That Stole My Focus

When I worked in the ICU, I started noticing something that didn’t feel like a big deal at first. My feet hurt. Not enough to stop me, just enough to pull a little focus away from the tasks at hand.

It was background discomfort. A low signal. But it was there — and it was stealing from me.

Whether I was training a new hire, in a goals of care meeting, educating a patient, assisting with a sterile procedure, or just simply strolling around the unit, I didn’t want to be bothered with the intrusive thought of, "Gosh, my feet hurt."

I assumed it was normal. Sore feet. Achy knees. Tired legs. I expected to get used to it eventually; it comes with the territory, right?

But I didn’t get used to it. Every combination of shoes and socks I tried didn't fully resolve my problem — they just redistributed the irritations in different arrangements.

The Problem with Repeated Compromise

After months and months of this, I decided I wasn’t willing to spend the duration of my career adapting to this low-grade loss of time, attention, and focus. "It is what it is" and "good enough" just won't cut it. That’s not who I am. At a certain point, a compromise, repeated and accepted day in and day out, for hundreds—if not thousands—of hours, eventually stops feeling like a compromise.

At what point do you accept that those "compromises" repeated every day are, in fact, your baseline? Personally, I don’t accept 'good enough' as my professional baseline. I want that 1% of my attention and focus back—so I can put it where it matters.

The Day the Noise Stopped

So I found people who were obsessed with solving the issues I was experiencing. People whose primary tool is their feet — runners. I found a store that catered specifically to them, from casuals to the obsessive. The kind of people who want to know what your goals are, not just your size. They studied my walking stride, pressure distribution, and asked me questions I hadn’t thought to ask. I walked out with not only the right pair of shoes for my needs, but I got a couple pairs of runners socks as well. And after that, I never thought about my feet — or the shoes — again. Not only did my feet stop screaming on the job — they were singing, so to speak.

That stuck with me — not just because the pain went away, but because I got my attention back. That irritating "fly buzzing around the room" every day — completely gone.

Relief.

Injecting Without Interruption

Years later, when I began designing syringe tools, I remembered that feeling. Injectors are constantly adapting — shifting grip, adjusting thumb position, mentally preparing to aspirate. Not because they’re doing anything wrong, but because generic tools such as syringes were never designed to disappear.

These compromises don’t stop them from delivering great results. But they cost something.

The Control Ring was designed to eliminate that cost. Not to add cleverness. Not to create a contraption. Just to stop being a problem.

It doesn’t add to what you do. It respects it — and gets out of the way.

When we got it right, the first thing people said was: “I forgot it was even there.”

That’s our real goal.

Our True Product Is a Deeper Standard

Because while the Control Ring may be what you hold, the expectation built into it becomes something more.

At KA Designs, our true product is a deeper standard.
One that refuses compromise when holistic resolution of the problem is possible.
One that converts compromise into a reclamation of your focus, your precision, and your time.

The Control Ring just happens to be how you experience it.